are hunted on horseback whenever they are found. There is, however, some good bird-shooting.

June 21.-Passed St. Paul's Rocks about 3.15 p.m., but we failed to discover them, though the captain hunted for them. As they are only about sixty feet high, they are always difficult to find.* This evening the sun set at 6.5; it was quite dark by 6.20, and at 7.30 we crossed the equator. It is very cool. This is the thirty-seventh time that the French captain has crossed the line, and he will have to recross it thrice before he can again return to his wife at Bordeaux, having, when he leaves Rio, to double Cape Horn and run up the West Coast to some place near Panama.

I think the practice which obtains of killing the oxen forwards on the spar deck, in the midst of the emigrants, is disgraceful, though I must admit that most of the pretty young girls and the children look on unconcernedly; but at least a sail might be hung, so as to prevent the other oxen witnessing their comrade's death, for I have seen them turn their heads to their expiring brother and tremble all over with terror. The sheep and pigs are slain in the butcher's shop just over my cabin. The other day I was awakened by the dying shrieks of a pig, and immediately afterwards some of his vital fluid trickled through a loose bolt-hole on to my ceiling!

In the official report of the Challenger Expedition, there are three splendid photographs of St. Paul's Rocks, with an exhaustive description of the rocks, their composition, characteristics, inhabitants, etc. It is stated, "During the time the ship remained at these islets, their dangerous character was more than ever apparent; for although their white guano-covered peaks, when lit up by the moon, were plainly visible from the ship a hundred yards. distant, they were not sufficiently distinct to be recognized as land at a distance of over a mile, and without the moon would probably not be seen more than a quarter of a mile; in short, the sound of the breakers might be the first notice given to a passing ship of their proximity."-Narrative, vol. i. pt. i. p. 202.

C

June 23-Yesterday the current set the ship thirtythree miles out of her course, and therefore nearer the coast of South America than we should have been; so at 4.30 p.m. we saw the first piece of Brazilian territory, the Island of Fernando de Noronha, which is the Brazilian convict settlement. It has one very prominent pyramidal peak which appears to stand alone, though the whole island is lofty. I could not gain much information about the place, for little is known, as the Brazilian Government keep it all very secret. But this much I picked up: the governor is changed every six months, and convicts, on obtaining a good-conduct medal, are allowed to get out their wives and families; they have land granted to them, are obliged to report themselves occasionally, and have to pay a certain percentage of their crops, etc.

June 26. Last night at 11.30 we came in sight of the lighthouse at Abrolhos (i.e. eye-opener),* the first point of the South American continent. We were in shallow water. At 7 p.m. the water was 150 fathoms deep; sounding at 9 p.m. it was twenty fathoms; at 11.30 only thirteen fathoms; then 11.45, seventeen fathoms. We passed the lighthouse-twenty miles off-at midnight, and I then retired. This morning at 11.30 I saw the first piece of land (as last night it was only a light), viz. the mountains round Espirito Santo, within three hundred miles of Rio, which we hope to reach to-morrow.

( 19 )

Society

CHAPTER II.

ARRIVAL AT RIO, AND JOURNEY TO QUELuz.

Rio de Janeiro.

June 28, 1883.—At length I can write to you from dry land, but must begin from the close of my last letter. Yesterday, June 27, I got up at 4 a.m., just as we were off Cabo Frio, which we apparently passed quite close; it was bright moonlight, and the coast was beautifully mountainous. As we neared the Bay of Rio de Janeiro, before the sun rose, the view became yet more beautiful, rangeover range appearing through the mist and above the clouds in the increasing light.

The Bay of Rio de Janeiro is generally admitted to be the finest in the world, though some (including the French captain) consider the Bay of San Francisco, in the States, finer. I can hardly think it possible. The entrance to this bay is perfect. Passing two little islands, on the left we see a series of jagged, rugged, irregular, and isolated mountains, beginning with the Sugar-loaf, and backed by the Corcovado group; while on the right are range beyond range of much more rounded hills, covered to the summit with verdure and tropical forest. Looking through the entrance, the eye is arrested by the faint fantastic outline of the Organ Mountains, some eight thousand feet high,

rising above a heavy belt of snow-white clouds some sixty miles away. We approach the bay, and the gaunt pyramidal Sugar-loaf (Pão d'Assucar, 1363 feet) towers above us, the gentler slopes of the huge cone are covered with trees, while the perpendicular side towards us is bare and purple in the early sunlight. At its base a white streak shows the sandy beach, which is washed by the calm blue Atlantic. In front of the Sugar-loaf, but detached from it, is a fort perched on a large rock rising above the bay. There is a second fort in the centre of the entrance, and a third on the right side; the latter is likewise overshadowed by a mountain, but much more rounded than the Sugar Loaf.

Entering the bay, one is struck by the beauty of the town of Rio. The coast is exceedingly irregular on both sides of the bay, and picturesquely broken up into many smaller lagoon-like bays. Near the city are some rocky islands dotted over with houses and palm trees. In the midst of the town rise several hills, all more or less thickly covered with houses, while in the flat parts innumerable fine houses, churches, and public buildings attract one's attention; and behind all rises the lofty chain of mountains which, beginning with the precipitous Corcovado, continues in a northerly direction by the Pico do Papagaio, near Tijuca, till it is lost in the mist. It is a scene which cannot be taken in at once or described after one short look ; it needs often and repeated gazing at, besides a knowledge of all the places themselves, to be able to describe it properly; but it is certainly very beautiful, and I hope to be able to say something about the different points of view at some future time.

A large number of engineers and other gentlemen came on board to welcome us, including Dr. Rebouças, who is